A Song of Lust and Desire: Chapter IX: The One In Which Arya Learns How To Dance

CHAPTER NINE: The Red Keep, King's Landing

In the following days after her father gave her a hard, punishing spanking - and more - in her room, the red, red bruises on Arya Stark's ass had faded and a growing desire in her loins replaced it. At the week's end, her lust-filled mind kept imagining the sausages she and her sister were breaking their fast with were hard cocks and found her tongue snaking around them, sucking and bobbing until she noticed Sansa giving her a queer look. Her sister narrowed her eyes in suspicion and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Shut up!"

Rage filled Arya, who quickly threw down her plate to shatter on the ground and, despite Septa Mordane's protests, ran out of the dining hall. She spent the morning wandering around the Red Keep, frustrated, before returning up to her room.

Once there she saw her room had been cleared - tables and beds and benches shoved against the wall. Needle was out from its hiding place, and laying openly n the table. Her eyes narrowed carefully and she crept into the room. Even with her caution, she jumped in surprise when an unfamiliar voice rang from the shadows of the corner of her room, "You are late, girl."

A slight man with a head of short, curly black hair stepped out into view. He was holding a pair of slender wooden swords, his arms spread wide and with a big grin on his face. The way the stranger's voice rolled smoothly off his tongue reminded Arya of a Braavosi. He circled around the room, prowling, watching her.

"Tomorrow you will be here right after you break your fast."

Arya glanced at Needle, laying on her table, before darting her eyes back to him, "Who are you?"

One of the wooden swords soared through the air and slipped through Arya's reflexively outreaching fingers. Frustration peaked in her mind at her failure. The stranger's voice was soothing, and supportive, "I am your dancing master, little girl. Tomorrow, you will catch it. Pick it up."

Scooping the sword into her hands, she thought about complaining about the weight - it was far heavier than Needle - but kept the voice to herself. Instead she scowled at him and said, "I'm not a little girl."

"Woman, little girl," Syrio Forel lewdly counters, "You are a sword, a cunt, tits, an ass, a mouth, and hands. That is all."

Arya's cunt gave a little spasm at his words and she shifted her hands awkwardly on the hilt of the training sword, "Did my father send you to teach me to"

"Dance, yes," intercut Syrio, a wry smirk on his face, "Now we will begin. Strike meif you can."

Arya tried to strike at him. She tried for hours, until the muscles in her body were sore and aching, all the while Syrio Forel clicked his tongue and told her what to do. Until finally, with a casual flourish, Syrio disarmed Arya's sword and, pulled her close, pressing his sleek and strapping body against her lithe frame. He moved so fast, she barely noticed that his sword was sheathed and his hands empty - save for her body leaning into them.

She gasped as her hands steadied on Syrio's arms, caressing and rubbing his sweat-soaked arms. Syrio's whispering voice danced across Arya's lips as his deft fingers freed her jerkin and bared her small, pert breasts to his appreciative gaze. Arya Stark’s mind was spinning, nothing was going as she expected when she awoke today. Her cunt grew more wet as he spoke to her in hushed whispers, "Now we will begin the true dance, little girl. This is not the primitive, iron fucking of Westeros we are learning, thrusting and grunting, no."

His hands plucked his gloves off and sent them crumpled to the floor. Syrio's battle-worn hands gently cupped her breasts, nipples hardening against his palms as he plumply squeezed and caressed them. Arya Stark's back arched in response and a low moan escaped her lips. His tongue snaked forward over her lips, "This is the bravo's dance, the water dance, swift and - sudden."

At that word, Arya found herself swept across the room and Syrio's shirt discarded on the floor, his hands guiding her onto the bed and her pants were quickly pulled down her sleek, skinny legs. In moments, her body lay nude before him, vulnerable and needy. Her grey eyes were full of lust and desire, while her cunt sang a throbbing song for an attention no man has given her - yet.

Syrio stood towering before her, stripping his pants off slowly, never breaking eye contact with the young Arya Stark. His voice caused her virgin cunt to quiver and leak with every word, "All men are full of cum, little girl. You have the power over it, if you learn how to use it."

Arya's hungry grey eyes lowered down to Syrio's thick, erect meaty sword, and her legs parted invitingly.

Her voice was full of need, yet fierce, "Will it hurt?"

The water dancer slipped forward, his lips kissing a sensitive trail up Arya's flat stomach as he climbed over her body. The little giggle that slipped through her throat surprised even her, as did the voice of her dancing master, "Do you pray to the gods?"

Arya's arms steady around Syrio's neck as his stiff cock rubbed back-and-forth against her soaked, sodden cunt, eliciting a small feminine stuttering gasp, "T-to the old and the new."

His thick cockhead slowly pushed its way into Arya Stark's tight virgin hole, and a low pained groan escaped her lips, "There are only two gods - Death and Love. And there is only one thing we say to Love: 'Today'."

A short, sharp shove pierced her maidenhood and Arya's screams were a wolfish howl that echoed in her bedroom. A sharp pain like no other - even worse than the first time her half-brother Jon Snow took her ass inside the broken tower - flared outward from Arya's cunt. Her fingernails dug claw marks down Syrio's arms who, with a sharp intake of hissing breath, kissed Arya hard on the mouth.

After a few long moments of adjusting, Syrio began to roll his hips, thrusting his cock deep inside of Arya Stark, every movement matched by a pained gasp from the little girl as his cock pushed against her stomach, distorting the flat lines of her stomach. Before long, the pain dulled and was replaced with a familiar burning fire. Arya's burning hot face burrowed deep into Syrio's neck, kissing and licking and moaning at every expanse of skin her small mouth could reach.

Her hands explored and caressed his broad shoulders and strong back and as the minutes of relentless fucking stretched on, the youngest daughter of Eddard Stark reached her budding climax. Her once-virgin cunt tightened and quivered around Syrio Forel's invading and pulsating cock, drenching it in her juices. Her toes curled, and an animalistic need flared through the young girl. Her teeth were of the wolves then, and bit deep into his shoulder, leaving a small, circular mark upon his swarthy dark skin.

His student's wrists were gathered in Syrio's hands and his powerful grip pinned Arya's arms to the bed over her head, stretching her body vulnerably under his gaze. His eyes devoured her young body as it rocked ceaselessly under the constant rolling of his hips and deep invasion of her cunt by his hard, dark cock.

Arya Stark's sweaty body - already exhausted by the hours of training beforehand - stained the sheets of her bed. Her muscles were sore and she ached all over, worst of all the deep soreness in her stomach and cunt. Her eyes slipped closed and, for the first time she that can remember, the Need inside of her was being sated. Her breath came in pants, her small pink tongue wetting her lips, "The m-men I've pleased usually cum by now in my ass, or mouth."

Syrio's charismatic smile broke wide, and he replied, "Little girl, a Braavosi water dancer can fuck for -hours-. Now please me with your cunt, it is why you have one."

She tried to please him. She tried for hours, until every muscle in her body was utterly sore and completely aching, while Syrio Forel fucked her brutally in many positions, driving the young Stark girl into countless orgasms. Hours into it, he turned and sat on the bed, while a shocked and utterly exhausted Arya Stark was bounced on his rock-hard cock, her small frame guided by his strong hands. Until finally with a deep groan Syrio pulled her close, pressed his sleek and strapping body against her tiny frame and kissed her deeply. His cock trembled and burst, sending wave after wave of hot boiling cum directly up her battered and well-fucked cunt.

Arya Stark shuddered one last time that night and slumped into unconsciousness on her bed, a truly satisfied smile on her face and a steady stream of cum leaking out of her once-virgin cunt onto her spoiled sheets.